Timing
by knowhere
Summary: Literati. Six years down the road. A box. A phone call. A conversation that’s long overdue.


**Timing**

Author: Knowhere

Rating: Pg-13

Disclaimer: Nothing, just the words.

AN: Assume everything that has happened, happens. Nothing in the past concerning them has been altered. This is the future with all the givens we've seen. Post episode 6.18.

Thank you Dorkfish04 for the push and Hallon for the support.

Summary: Literati. Six years down the road. A box. A phone call. A conversation that's long overdue.

---

The phone vibrates on his desk, and he flips it open without looking. "Yeah? Jess here."

Silence.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

His fingers stop typing and he sits back against his chair. "Hey."

"It's Rory." She knows there's no need to specify, but does so anyways out of courtesy.

He nods, knowing exactly who it was before she named herself, but he plays along anyways. "Blast from the past. How are you?"

"Good, good." She nods along with each word, and her fingers twist the bed sheet that she's sitting on. "How 'bout you? I read your new book. It's great, Jess."

"Thanks. How did you find it?"

"Luke."

"Right." He glances over at the picture lying randomly on his desk with him and Luke at the diner that was taken a couple months ago.

"But I would have found it anyways. I saw it in a bookstore in the city."

He smiles. "Yeah, people actually stock up on them."

"And I read a review in the newspaper."

"Eh, that's a fluke."

She giggles and the moment passes. Softly, she replies, "It's wonderful. You seem to be doing really well."

He looks around his apartment. Spacious but sparse. He really has done well for himself in these past six years. He seems to have it all…but somewhere there's still the lonely boy who had nothing but sarcasm and defense mechanisms. "It's alright."

"It's really exciting to see someone I know on a bookshelf." She's being honest and she hopes she's getting that point across to him. The bed shifts under her, and she glances over the top of the box.

"What are you up to these days, Gilmore?"

She smiles to herself hearing him refer to her by 'Gilmore.' It was his funny habit. He never had a pet name or endearment when they were dating, but somehow took to calling her by last name. "Editing. Just general low-key articles at _The Villager_. Nothing fancy. It's hard work, and I rather be writing, but it's okay for now. I'm slowly working my way up."

"You're in the city?" He sits up taller in his chair.

She shrugs. "Yeah. Who would have thought, right?" Chuckling nervously, she recalls how he had teased her a long time ago for being such a foreigner to New York City. "How's Philly?"

"Wouldn't know." Turning down the music on his laptop, he pays attention to their conversation. "I left about three years ago."

"Oh." She's genuinely surprised. "Didn't know."

"I thought Luke would've told you."

"No," she squirms on the bed, suddenly uncomfortable. "He doesn't talk much about you." Realizing how that sounds, she backpedals. "Not that he's not proud of you or anything, but Luke's more of a 'speak when spoken to' kinda guy. He doesn't really provide information unless you ask him."

"Ah." He gets it, but feels a weird twinge at hearing her confirm what he had already guessed.

"So where do you live now?"

"New York."

"The city?"

"In the heart." He smirks at her questions. "Well, Manhattan specifically."

The conversation stops and he takes the moments to listen to the distant rumblings of the traffic outside his window.

"Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"It's nice talking to you after all this time."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

She relaxes on her bed and props herself up on a pillow.

"Rory?" That was the first time he's spoken her name aloud since he last saw her flee the bookstore in Philadelphia.

"Yes?"

"Why did you call me?"

She bites her lip. "I called because…" She trails off, not knowing how to continue. He waits patiently, not saying anything to disturb her line of thought. "I called," she picks up again, "because, I was thinking about how we've lost contact. I mean, that was never my intention, I meant to call you…but, I just didn't."

He brushes off her comment. "You had a life to get back to. I had one too. Understandable. Not everyone has the time to chat up ex-boyfriends."

She winces. "Yeah, but still. We were friends. And friends call each other, right?"

"Friends."

"Yeah, friends."

He sighs, but returns to his previous question. "Why did you call me now?"

A beat passes. The silence swirls. "I was going through my old boxes."

"Your boxes? Are you moving?"

"No."

"Okay…"

She slides off the bed and positions herself next to the large plastic container on the floor. "My boyfriend boxes."

"Ah." Not really understanding what the hell a boyfriend box is, he just waits.

"I was cleaning out some stuff in my closet, and I just came across my boxes. Stuff that I kept from ex-boyfriends. Stuff that means something to me. Dean, Logan, a couple others, you…"

His eyebrows jump up. "Logan?" The last he heard, Luke mentioned in passing that they were going on a trip to Rome. He didn't pry Luke for more information. Hearing enough, he had just moved the conversation to another topic.

"Yeah. We broke up about a year after I saw you at Truncheon."

"Huh."

"Yeah." Her voice doesn't linger at the thought of Logan. She moves on. "Anyways, I was cleaning out stuff and came across the boxes in the back of my closet. I was looking through them…and thought of you."

"So, you're just calling all your ex's to let them know and reminisce?" He doesn't say that in disgust; it's just a question, plain and simple.

"No."

"Then what?"

"I just realized that even though you and I were together for the shortest amount of time, your box is the biggest." This Rory is different. She's more grown up and has no qualms or embarrassment in saying exactly what she wants to say at exactly the same time she wants to say it. She's more self-assured and she knows it. She stands up taller these days, and doesn't slump over her desk at work. When she has a problem, she speaks up but still is modest when compliments are thrown her way. Still blushing at every little comment that might in any way be deemed suggestive, she's the same bookish Rory from a small town. But she now hides it well beneath an exterior of a woman. She's no longer a girl.

He switches the phone to his other ear and leans back. "Biggest?"

"Yeah."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Dunno. It just got me to thinking about you."

"And so you decided to call?"

"Yeah."

"And the reason for our conversation is just to take a walk down memory lane?" This Jess is different too. He's more open and calm about his emotions. He understands that feelings exist for a reason, and he's made his peace with his anger from before. Now, he's more reserved, less rough around the edges, but still blunt as ever when he talks. His sarcasm has never wavered, though now it's done more in humor than defense, and he still squints and furrows his eyebrows when he's especially invested in a conversation. His demeanor is more casual and he still listens more than he talks, but he voices his opinions when he thinks they matter.

She's sitting in her quiet room, wanting to ask the question she's been wondering about for so long. Six years have past, but is she ready to hear the answer? "Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

He smirks. "I think you just did."

"That was so lame. Even for you." She makes a face but continues anyways. "Why do you think it never worked out for us?"

His breath catches in his throat and he bites the inside of his cheek. "Are we really going to do this?" He needs to make sure she's certain before he walks down that beaten path again.

"Yeah. I think enough time has past that we can talk about it. Don't you?"

"Sure."

She picks up one of his old CDs and puts it next to a t-shirt of his that somehow ended up with her. It's faded and grey, but comfy. She hasn't seen it in years, but memories flood back to her now just looking at it. "So…what do you think?"

"Initially…" He flips down the laptop screen and just lets the computer sleep. He has a feeling that their conversation is far from over. "I think it was timing. I was too young, and even if I wanted to pretend I was ready for us, I wasn't."

"Hm." She pauses.

He picks up the conversation. "And then later, I think we didn't work 'cause of what had already happened between us. I _knew_ I changed, but the damage was done. I don't think you were willing to trust me."

"That's not true." She sighs. "When you came and showed me your book, that was…"

"Yeah, but it wasn't enough. And it was still the wrong time. I was just beginning to figure out who I was. And by then, you were a completely different person."

"I…" She's hurt, but knows it's true. She doesn't like to talk, or think, about that part of her life. "You did change. I saw it that night when I came to Philly. You were different."

He nods, sadly. "Yes, I was." But he's proud that she was able to see it, even if it's six years too late.

She finally admits. "You were different and it scared me."

"How so?" Something clicks in his mind. "Because I finally made something of myself? You were scared because you still didn't know what to do with your life?" His voice is gentle and soft and it makes her want to cry.

"No." Tears well up in her eyes and she doesn't brush them away. "You were different, but I wasn't any different. I had changed that year, and I couldn't change back."

"It was who you were. Whatever you changed to. It was still you."

"But I wanted to change as well. You looked comfortable that night. You were in your element in that store. And I was…"

He closes his eyes and lets her voice wash over him. He might have stopped dreaming of her voice at night, but he could still remember a time when she whispered in his ear. Whispers of friendship, of promise, and of the potential of love. "You were what?"

"I didn't _fit_." Tears fall and she lets them. "I didn't fit in."

"You could, if you wanted to." He doesn't like to think of that disastrous kiss they had shared. But it happened that night, and he wouldn't give up that memory for anything. It reminds him how close he came. How close _they_ came.

She whispers. "I didn't want to."

"I know." He matches her volume. "It wasn't right. And I know it." He felt it that night. "I knew it."

"It wouldn't have been fair to you."

He echoes her statement. "It wouldn't have been fair to _you_."

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath to calm down. "No, I suppose it wouldn't have been."

"We were never really ready to be together."

"Why do you think so?"

He shrugs. "When you were ready, I wasn't. And when I was, you were somewhere else. With some_one_ else."

"I wish…"

Cutting her off, he doesn't want to go down that road. "No, Rory."

"No, what?"

"I know what you were going to say."

"What do you think I was going to say?"

"You were going to say that you wish things turned out different. That you weren't dating him that night we kissed. That you had the balls to leave him."

Quietly, "Yes, I wish that."

"No, you don't."

Eyebrow lifted, she asks. "I don't?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it still wouldn't have been right for us." He chuckles without heat. "We would have been happy initially, no doubt, but it would have ended."

"Why?"

"We would have been so focused on not making the same mistakes we made the first time, that we'd end up resenting each other for different things."

"You make it sound like we wouldn't have worked out in any scenario." She frowns.

"Like I said…we were never ready at the same time."

"Fair enough."

He pauses. "Can I ask you something now?"

"Sure."

"Why do _you_ think we didn't work out?" He grimaces. "I mean, we both know that I made mistakes when we were together. I left and I know I shouldn't have, but why didn't you stay that night in Philly?" A beat. "And don't say because you were scared. I know you Rory." He corrects himself. "I knew you. You would have fought for something you wanted."

"You're right. We never came together at the right time. And by that night at Truncheon, I knew I wasn't good enough for you."

He scoffs. "Good enough for _me_?"

"Yes." She's adamant. "I wasn't right for you. Not then."

He nods. "Okay."

"I wanted to be right for you." She returns back to her last statement. "But I wasn't. I was good enough for him. And that was it."

Honestly, he replies. "I don't know what to say to that."

"I don't either."

"He wasn't good for you."

"Maybe not. But we still had some good times. There are memories I wouldn't trade. Like you said, it was who I was and I can't change it." She picks at the carpet besides her. "I don't think I want to change it."

"Yeah." He agrees sadly.

"I don't regret us, you know." She speaks up because it's important to say it. It's important for him to hear it. "I don't regret having been with you. Even with all that happened. I don't regret it and I wouldn't trade it."

He closes his eyes again and feels the words. "Me neither."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

"I used to think you were the one." She tells him with no ulterior motive. She just wants to say it aloud to someone else.

"The one?"

"Yeah." She doesn't elaborate because she knows he understands what she means. "Even after you left for California and after Philly…I had some crazy notion that somewhere down the line we'd find each other again."

"Huh."

"Silly, right?"

"I don't know. Do you think it's silly?"

She quiets down. "I think…"

He waits.

"I think…"

"I think it was a picture you had in your mind." He finishes her sentence instead.

"Yes, I think it was."

The conversation stops and they both just sit and wait. "Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." He stretches his legs out in front of him. "I should have said that a long time ago…but, if I hurt you, I'm sorry."

"There's no need. You don't regret anything and I don't either. We weren't right for each other at that time and there's no need to say you're sorry." She breathes in and exhales slowly. "But thank you for saying it nonetheless."

"You're welcome."

"And for what it's worth…I'm sorry too."

"I know."

"Okay." She glances over at the clock on her nightstand and realizes that it's late and that she has to be up early the next morning. "Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"It really was nice hearing your voice."

"Same here."

"Do you think we can talk again?" She's serious about it. "For real this time. I'm not just saying that to say something. I mean it."

He's serious too. "Sure. I'd like that."

"Okay. So I'll talk to you later?"

He nods. "You have my number."

"Okay. I'll call you."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Jess."

He hangs up and lays the phone down on the desk. Watching it, he smiles and opens his laptop again.

Maybe_ this _time_…_

---

AN: If you read, please review.


End file.
